


An Awkward Love

by divenire



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College AU, Coming Out, Derek is a dork, Derek's POV, F/M, Human AU, M/M, Stiles is still a dork too, Stiles' POV, This is fluff, with some angst thrown in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:12:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divenire/pseuds/divenire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is an awkward first year student, his best friend Erica works in the library part time and Jackson is by far the worst roommate ever. And then there’s this boy - Stiles - who won’t leave Derek alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Nice Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for prompt #6 "family" for the [fullmoon ficlet](http://fullmoon-ficlet.livejournal.com/) comm over on LJ. It's also the first chapter in a new, ongoing story! So it's a WIP, but I'll be posting a new chapter for this every week based on the prompts for the comm! They'll be posted on LJ probably around thursday and posted here on sunday or monday.

On the first day of the first semester, when they’d all been gathered together in the common room or whatever they’d called it, the RA had said that “everyone on this floor is like a family.” Derek had thought it was a nice sentiment at the time. 

But a month has passed since then and he now knows that statement for what it really is: a lie. A cold, vicious, cruel lie. 

This? This is not a family. This is a bunch of dirty, sex-crazed and thoroughly unstable people all rounded up and kept in the same much too small space. And sharing not nearly enough bathrooms.

His roommate, Jackson, is by far the worst. They’ve been here a month, 30 days, and so far, Derek has spent 8 of those nights sleeping out on the old, dirty, practically falling apart couches in the common room. Jackson kicks him out basically any time a girl shows up. Derek’s seen this one redheaded girl a few times, but every time he’s seen her she’s seemed disinterested. Like sex with Jackson either isn’t any good or isn’t worth her time or... who knows, really. Either way, Derek has experienced girls like her before. In high school, he knew of girls like her. Girls that were cooler than everyone else, girls that placed themselves above it all.

College is supposed to be so much different than high school, especially at a big school like Berkeley, but it’s really not. People are the same as they were only now everyone is going around pretending they’re so much more mature than they were before because there’s no one around telling them what to do, what not to do, or to go to bed when it gets late. 

The only person he’s met here that he actually likes is Erica. She lives off campus, alone, and she works part time in the library. She seems to be one of the few people who is actually here to learn - she wants to be a librarian - and obviously, she likes books as much as he does. She likes sci-fi just as much as he does, too. Her favorite author is Terry Pratchett, and she’s loaned Derek one of Terry Pratchett’s books called, “Night Watch” and he’s enjoying it so far. He loaned her his copy of Douglas Adam’s “Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy” because somehow she hasn’t read it yet. 

He’s been reading “Night Watch” every time Jackson kicks him out. Tonight is one of those nights, so he gets as comfy as he can on the useless, damaged couch and flips to the page he was last on. 

About ten minutes later a tall, gangly kid walks in and nods at him. Derek raises his eyes from his book for a few seconds, nods, and goes back to reading. 

“Your roommate kick you out too?” the kid says. Derek really wishes he wouldn’t. That’s just an opening for small talk and he really hates small talk. Most people aren’t exactly interested in comics or sci-fi and he’s not interested in partying, drinking or reality television, so he never has anything useful to say to them and they never have anything to say that he’s particularly interested in hearing.

It’s silent for a few seconds before the kid says, “I’m Stiles, I live in room 110.” He walks over and holds his hand out in greeting. Derek just grunts and lifts his book up in a gesture he hopes means “that’s nice, I’m busy here.” 

“Pratchett, huh?” Stiles says and Derek wonders how this boy can seemingly carry on an entire conversation all by himself. He has trouble carrying on a conversation at all. 

“I’ve never read any of his books. What’s that one about?” Stiles says. Derek can’t help but roll his eyes. Why is this kid pretending like he’s interested? Can’t he entertain himself without bothering other people?

But this kid keeps standing there, looking at the book and at Derek so Derek finally says, “It’s about time travel.”

“Huh,” Stiles says, sounding vaguely interested. “I could never really get into those books myself. I’m not that into sci-fi.” Stiles reaches into his back pocket and takes out a very badly damaged paperback copy of “Club Dead” by Charlaine Harris. “I’m more into werewolves, vampires, witches, that sort of thing.” Stiles flops gracelessly on to the couch next to Derek’s and Derek can’t help but think, finally, some quiet. 

Stiles starts reading and Derek surprises himself when he says, “I don’t get the whole werewolf thing.”

Stiles looks up, book suddenly forgotten and says, “I love them. I think they’re fascinating.” 

“It can never happen. What’s the fun in something that can never happen? Stuff like this?” Derek says, nodding to his own book. “It could actually happen. There’s so much out there we have yet to explore, so much we don’t know. It’s probable there are other races, other species out there. There’s no way werewolves really exist.” 

Stiles huffs but his eyes are bright and it’s clear he’s excited. “It’s not about whether they exist or not, it’s about what if they did? It’s fantasy. It doesn’t have to be real or probable to be enjoyable.” 

“I still don’t get it,” Derek says.

“Well that,” Stiles says proudly, “is your loss.”

After that, they both go back to reading silently. Well, Derek reads silently. Stiles makes a lot of noise. He seems to be the kind of person who is incapable of really being quiet, even doing a quiet activity like reading. 

Usually, Derek would find this extremely annoying but... he can’t seem to stop peeking over at Stiles and watching him as he reads. Stiles just gets so involved in the story, even if, going by the state of the book, he’s read it before. It’s ridiculous. Derek thinks it’s ridiculous. 

And yet... he can’t stop stealing looks over at Stiles.


	2. A Very Long Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a party and a fire and marshmallows and a very drunken Stiles. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written for prompt #7 'fire' for the [fullmoon ficlet](http://fullmoon-ficlet.livejournal.com/) comm on LJ. I went literal with the prompt. :)

“Oh, come on, Derek!” Erica demands, pouting. “I’ve never been to a party before and this one is open to everyone. I’m going and I’m not going alone.” 

“So, let me see if I have this straight,” Derek says as he shoves a few more books onto the shelves. “You ask me to come to the library, make me help you shelve the books and demand that I go to a party.” He raises an eyebrow at her quizzically. “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” 

“Because,” Erica huffs, blowing a strand of frizzy blond hair out of her face. “I’m the only one on this entire campus that puts up with you.”

“Not the _only_ one,” Derek says. Erica’s eyes light up and instantly, he regrets having said anything.

“You mean to tell me you actually spoke to someone else?” She starts out almost shouting but quickly remembers they are, in fact, in a library and quickly goes quiet. 

“Actually, he spoke to me. He kind of wouldn’t shut up.” Derek says and again, he regrets it. 

“Okay, well now we have to go.”

Derek sighs. He knows there’s no getting out of it now. 

Two days later, Derek finds himself being dragged to the insipid start of the year party being held at the biggest fraternity on campus.

They walk around the back to find a huge crowd of people and more kegs than Derek cares to count. There’s also a big bonfire that is probably a really bad idea, considering how drunk everyone is or is about to get. There are also, oddly enough, a bunch of people who Derek assumes are pledge, dressed up in tuxedos handing out drinks.

The second Erica spots one of the pledges she bursts out giggling and says, “This is the best party ever!” She runs off towards one of them and grabs a violently pink drink from his tray. Derek is about to follow her when she starts chatting up the guy in the tuxedo so he decides to go over to the table in the back where they have some food that he doesn’t have to talk to anyone to get to. He spends a few seconds deciding between ketchup or dill pickle chips and in the end just decides to go for both. 

When he turns around, he realizes he has no idea where Erica is. 

He looks for her for nearly an hour. She isn’t near the food, she isn’t near the fire and she isn’t on the porch. He’s tried texting her four separate times and she hasn’t replied. 

It makes him a bit nervous, that he can’t get a hold of her, so instead of doing what he wants to do which is leave and pretend he never came here, he walks over to the fire, hoping that it’s just that her phone died and that if he stays in one place, she’ll find him. 

He doesn’t find Erica by the fire, but he does find someone else - the kid from last night, Stiles. 

And Stiles, by this point in the evening, is full on drunk. He’s spilling his drink every time he moves and he’s got one of the sticks that have been placed by the fire for marshmallows or whatever. He’s waving it around as he yells at some terrified kid about the merits of the avengers versus the justice league and Derek can’t help but laugh. 

This gets Stiles attention and he calls out, “Hi, Terry Pratchett!” The kid Stiles was talking at uses this as an opportunity to run away and Stiles walks over, dropping his cup in the process. “I didn’t actually catch your name last night,” Stiles says with the sort of bright, bubbly smile used only by the very inebriated. 

“Derek,” Derek says. 

“Huh?” say Stiles, still smiling. 

“Maybe I’ll just...” Derek trails off as he reaches for the very pointy, very dangerous stick Stiles is still waving around. 

“No!” Stiles shouts. “I had to fight off three other guys for this.” 

“Okay, well can I -” Derek starts, trying to ask Stiles if he can see it (so he can throw it in the fire) when Stiles points at the nearest table and goes, “Ooh, look, Terry! Marshmallows!” He drops his now mostly empty cup, grabs Derek by the hand and starts dragging him off. 

“My name is not -” Derek mutters. “Oh, never mind.” 

Stiles drags him over to the marshmallows and immediately sets to work stuffing six marshmallows on the stick. Derek makes a last grab for the thing, knowing that if Stiles + Pointy Stick = Dangerous, then Stiles + Pointy Stick + Fire = Even Worse. But Stiles just darts out of the way, smiling again. “Come on!” he says. 

Derek sighs, follows him over to the fire and watches as the flames lick at the marshmallows, burning them to a big, sticky, sugary mess. Stiles jerks the stick out of the fire just a few seconds too late, and starts waving it around. He yelps and suddenly, everyone within ten feet gets out of his way. 

In a last ditch effort at preventing ultimate disaster, Derek steals a cup from someone and pours it out onto the burning marshmallows. 

This is a big mistake because the cup (obviously) is full of alcohol, which is entirely flammable, which Derek would have known if he’d thought about it for five seconds or if he’d ever been to a party before.

The fire gets bigger and Stiles really starts freaking out. “Oh, my god!” he screams. “Help!” 

One of the bigger, older and clearly not as drunk students grabs the stick away from Stiles and throws it into the fire. The fire surges for a second, then returns to normal. The student, clearly thinking thoughts along the lines of ‘stupid freshman’ scowls, then heads back into the crowd. 

Stiles just laughs. 

And _that_ is when Derek knows that this is going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am on [ tumblr](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/)! Go follow me for more Teen Wolf stuff.


	3. An Awkward Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up and has absolutely no idea where he is or what happened last night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written for prompt #8 "Memories" for [fullmoon ficlet](http://fullmoon-ficlet.livejournal.com/) on LJ.

The next morning Stiles wakes up with his face pressed into a slightly sticky, very stinky from this close up, brown carpet.

He groans, twitches for a moment and then finally sits up.

He looks around the room and realizes he has absolutely no idea where he is. He's in a dorm room, that much is obvious. It looks almost exactly like his own - old, outdated carpet; beige walls that have seen better days and a bed and dresser so cheap even IKEA wouldn't admit to making them.

But this is not his room. His walls are covered in posters of his favorite movies and these walls are blank. His blankets are bright red and brand new, the one on this bed is gray and worn at the edges.

Another thing this room has? Books. Tons of them. Everywhere. His does too, but these aren’t his books.

He gets to his feet and walks over to the pile stacked on the edge of the desk. He looks at the books for a few seconds before noticing the one on the top. Terry Pratchett's _Night Watch_.

He stumbles back, almost crashing into the bed because, no. This? This can't be happening.

He cannot be here. He doesn't even know that guy's name. This can’t be...

"Okay," he mutters to himself. "What the hell even happened last night?" He raises a hand to his head to find it sticky. Alarmed, he jerks his hand back to find it covered in what appears to be half  melted marshmallow. He scrubs at it furiously, removing the largest bits and flinging them off his fingers.

Oh, god.

What had happened last night?

He honestly can't remember. Everything is blurry, like he's looking at it through the wrong side of a magnifying glass.

"Okay, well, maybe I can," he starts saying just as the door creeps open. In his head he silently finishes with, totally get caught here in some other guy's room. Great.

A tall, well muscled guy with blonde hair loaded with gel steps in. The second he sees Stiles he raises an eyebrow and grunts dismissively.

"Hi," Stiles squeaks.

The guy just shakes his head, grabs a pen from off the desk and leaves the room.

Leaving Stiles alone.

Again.

He spends the next five minutes debating what to do before ultimately deciding he'll just leave.

He walks out into the small shared living room/kitchen just as the front door opens. Stiles holds his breath, praying it's just the blond guy again.

It's not. It's the guy from before. The impossibly attractive one with green eyes too beautiful to be a real thing.

And he's carrying two coffees.

Stiles tries to say something but instead just ends up nodding awkwardly as the guy walks in.

"Hey," he says conversationally. This is shocking for two reasons. One, last time they spoke he was all prickly and...

Oh, god.

What if that wasn't the last time they'd talked?

“Hi,” Stiles says and really, he’s starting to get desperate over the fact that he still doesn’t know this guy’s name.

“I’m Derek,” he says quietly as he hands Stiles one of the coffees.

“Oh, I’m -” Stiles starts but the other guy, Derek, cuts him off. “I know. You said.”

Stiles nods. “Right.” He takes a sip of the coffee but it’s so hot it almost burns his tongue.

“So, last night was...” Derek says with a deft shake of his head.

“Uh-huh,” says Stiles, like he has any idea what last night was.

“You were really drunk,” Derek says.

“Yeah. Yeah, it was pretty bad. I mean, I think it was anyway. I vaguely remember being really happy about a stick or something,” Stiles says and the instant he says it he really wishes he hadn’t because, well, that just sounded all kinds of wrong.

“You wanted to drag that thing back with you,” Derek says. He shakes his head, clearly disapproving.

“Okay, so. Okay, so,” Stiles says. “Okay, so,” he says for a third time because apparently, he can’t come up with anything else. Finally, he comes up with, “Okay, so, why am I here?”  
“You seem to have lost your keys,” Derek says.

Stiles frantically searches his pockets for his keys and can’t find them. He curses a bit and sighs.

“So I brought you here instead,” Derek says like Stiles hadn’t at all interrupted him.

Stiles nods. He’s silent for a second before he says, “So you just like, watched out for me last night?”

Derek shrugs. “Somebody had to.”

Stiles hates it, but he deflates a little at that. He’d kind of hoped that there’d been a reason for why Derek had apparently watched out for him and made sure he didn’t end up asleep outside or worse. But maybe not.

Silence stretches out between them and they both just stare at the floor or the wall and sip their coffees. When he’s about half done his and suitably awake, Stiles says, “I should probably go look for my keys.” He points at the door, as if he needs to make the idea that he’s leaving right now anymore obvious.

“I could help,” Derek grits out. “Er, if you want. I could help if you want.”

“Sure!” Stiles says, entirely too excitedly. “That’d be great!”

Derek gets this look - like he’s about to smile - but then he doesn’t. Stiles wishes he would, but he’s not quite brave enough to say it out loud. Derek nods at the door and they both walk out.

Halfway down the hall, Stiles starts debating about which is better, Star Trek or Star Wars - an  old but reliable debate, at least amongst nerds anyway.

This time, Derek actually joins in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is my [ tumblr. I post even more slashy things over there.](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/)


	4. And It's Weird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek gets bored, so he calls Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh. Sorry this is several days late! I wrote it on friday last week but I've been working full 9 hour shifts on sunday, monday, tuesday and wednesday and I was just too tired after work to remember to post this!

Silence. His room is silent and Derek isn’t used to silence. He’s used to a huge house full of people and noise and everything going in ten different directions all at once. His sister Laura and his brother Neal in the living room, arguing about which show to watch next, even though Laura always gets her way and gets to pick; his uncle Peter in the garage with his cousin Andy trying to fix the old motorcycle Peter got for Andy last year; his mom in the kitchen, relentlessly trying to teach his sister Amy how to cook because she desperately wants to learn even though she’s so terrible at it that she routinely manages to ruin boiling water. And any other varying number of people coming in and out of the house at any given time. 

But he’s not at home. He’s at school. And it’s ten am on a sunday and everyone in the dorms is silent. He suspects they’re all sleeping off whatever bad choices they made the night before. And he’s been awake for three hours and he’s bored. He’s got homework he doesn’t want to do, he’s tried reading and just couldn’t get into it and he’s tried calling Erica. She picked up, yelled at him for calling while she was asleep and hung up. That was an hour ago. 

He looks over at his phone and contemplates calling the one number in it that isn’t a family member or Erica. 

Stiles. 

He has to admit, Stiles isn’t completely terrible company. Mostly. When he isn’t drunk. At least he doesn’t expect Derek to be interesting and talk about a whole bunch of stuff. 

So, after thinking about it for another five minutes, he calls Stiles. The phone rings and suddenly he’s convinced this is all a really, really bad idea. With each ring he’s more and more convinced that this is a terrible, horrible, very bad idea. And then Stiles picks up. “Hello?” Stiles says, not sounding groggy or sleepy in the least, meaning he’s probably actually awake right now. 

And Derek can’t say anything. “Hello?” Stiles says again. And still, Derek is silent. “Okay, is someone there? If not I’m going to hang up,” Stiles says. 

And suddenly Derek shouts, “No, don’t hang up!” 

“Umm...” 

Derek grimaces. “Um, hi, Stiles.” 

“And this is?” says Stiles and it’s clear from his tone of voice that he’s quickly becoming irritated. 

“Derek.”

“Oh!” Stiles more or less squeaks and Derek barely holds back from laughing. “Hi!’ 

“Hi.” Derek really wishes he could come up with something better to say but, nope. That’s all he’s got. And he doesn’t know why he’s being so weird right now. It’s not like he’s had trouble talking to Stiles before now. 

It’s silent for a few seconds before Stiles says, “So why are you calling me?” 

“Umm...” Derek is blanking. He had a reason, didn’t he? He can’t come up with anything to say and suddenly there’s this silence spreading between his phone and the other end of the line. It starts to last so long that he starts to wonder if Stiles has hung up. 

“Did you wanna hang out?” Stiles says. 

“Sure.” Derek gulps. He hopes it isn’t audible. “That’d be good.” 

“Okay. I was going to go buy some comics today, if you want to come?” Stiles asks hesitantly. And it’s weird. That he’s hesitant. 

“Sure,” Derek says. “What time?” 

“Um, like twenty minutes?” 

“Sure,” Derek says. Because he still can’t say more than one word at a time, apparently. 

They spend about twice as long saying goodbye as they did actually having a conversation and when he hangs up Derek flops back onto his bed feeling oddly nervous and not really knowing why.


	5. A Very Long Walk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this yesterday but fell asleep before I got to posting it. So, fail on my part. :) And thanks to everybody who has commented!

Twenty minutes later, Stiles knocks on the door of Derek's dorm. He hears, "Yeah, I'm coming!" a few seconds before the door opens. Then Derek steps out wearing a Superman shirt and Stiles smiles. 

"Nice choice," he says, nodding appreciatively.

"Oh, uh, yeah," says Derek. He looks down at his shirt almost like he'd forgotten what shirt he was wearing and for a second Stiles wonders if maybe it wasn't on purpose.

"So where are we going?" Derek asks as they start heading down the hall.

"There's this little comic shop on 5th. They've got some pretty good stuff and they don't mind if you open the books and read through them a bit."

"Okay," Derek says. Silence falls as they near the end of hall. They start heading for the stairs and the main level of the building.

Finally, to break the silence, Stiles says, "So how'd you get into comics?"

Derek shrugs. "When I was a kid I spent a lot of time in the library. They had comics there and my favorite was always Superman." That’s it, that’s all he says. It’s not much to start a conversation on, so Stiles says, "My mom liked comics.” He pauses for a moment then clarifies, “That’s how I got into them.”

"Oh," says Derek. His lips twitch a little, but it's not quite a smile. "What are her favorites?"

Stiles sucks in a breath, wishing that he hadn't brought it up. Wishing that he was smart enough, by now, to stop bringing it up. He never means to, it just happens. "She always really liked Iron Man and Captain America." Liked. Past tense. It's always past tense.

"Liked?" says Derek and instantly, Stiles winces. He always hates this part. 

“Yeah, um, she... died.” No matter how he says it, no matter how it comes out, Stiles hates having to say it. He also hates that it only ever leads to more questions. What happened? How long ago was it? How have you handled it?

But Derek doesn't ask any questions. He just tentatively reaches out and grabs Stiles' hand and runs his thumb down the side. 

"I'm sorry," he says softly. He doesn't feel the need to ask what happened, he just knows something happened and that's enough.

Stiles grips Derek's hand tightly and leads him out the door and down the main hall.

It's a few seconds before he says, "Thanks."

Stiles sneaks a glance at derek and sees his ridiculously thick eyebrows knitting together. "For what?" Derek asks, confused. 

Stiles purses his lips for a moment and abruptly shakes his head. "Nothing."

He thinks Derek is going to ask him again, for what, but he doesn't.

That's something Stiles is realizing he really likes about Derek. He isn't pushy. Or at least he isn't about stuff like this.

They walk through campus in companionable silence, still holding hands.

They reach the parking lot and for once in probably his entire life, Stiles is reluctant to break the silence, but he sort of has to. "We could take my Jeep, or if you'd rather drive..."

Derek shakes his head. "I don't have a car, actually." He looks away but not before Stiles can see that he looks kind of embarrassed. And Stiles? He is not like Derek. He sees something and he has to poke at it, to prod it. He has to ask. "Is there a story there?"

Derek huffs and kicks at the ground. "I'm supposed to have a car." They slowly start heading for Stiles' Jeep. "I'm supposed to have a really nice car." Derek's eyes suddenly have this hard edge to them and Stiles knows, he knows, this is a completely inappropriate time, but it's kind of ridiculously hot and apparently anger really turns him on. So. 

"I have a brand new black camaro," Derek grits out. And Stiles mouth drops open. That's a nice car. Stiles is full on head over heels in love with his Jeep and wouldn't give it up for anything, but that is a nice car. 

Stiles realizes that while he's been daydreaming about the car Derek hasn't said anything else. "And?" Stiles says.

"And what?" says Derek.

"And what happened to it?" Stiles almost shouts. Up in the distance, he can see the Jeep. That's something he loves about his Jeep, his baby, it's easy to spot in a sea of cars.  
"And," Derek says, exhaling sharply, "it was a gift for getting into college. It was beautiful. And before I so much as got a chance to drive it, my sister Laura decided she had to. And she crashed it into a tree. The front end was completely totalled and my Uncle Peter has spent the past three months fixing it."

Stiles just stands there, shell shocked. "Really?" he says.

"My uncle is a mechanic," Derek answers, like that is the part of the story Stiles was asking about.

"And your sister?" Stiles demands. His hands inadvertently flail and this causes him to lose his grip on Derek's hand.

"She's fine," Derek grunts. "Not a scratch on her." 

"Oh," Stiles says. He doesn't have anything else to say to that, so he doesn't say anything. They finally reach the Jeep and when Derek sees it he stops dead in his tracks.

"Stiles, this thing is a death trap.” 

Stiles scoffs. “My baby is not a death trap.”

Derek raises an eyebrow. “You call it your baby?” 

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Well of course I do.”

“Why?”

Stiles doesn’t really have a reason. He’s just always called it that, ever since he got it. So instead of explaining something he can’t explain, something he doesn’t consider to be very important one way or the other, he says, “Do you want to stand here and argue about it all day or do you want to get in and go buy some comics?” 

Derek shrugs. “Fine.” 

Stiles unlocks the Jeep, jumps in and crawls across the front seat to unlock the door. Derek gets in warily and makes a show of putting on his seatbelt. “If we die in this thing, I’m never letting you live it down.”

“Well that’ll be kind of difficult,” Stiles says, grinning, “as we won’t be alive.”

Derek just groans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: I changed the title of the fic from "Written In The Stars" to "An Awkward Love" because I feel like it fits better with where this story has ended up going.


	6. And That's It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has been reading this and commenting! I’ve got the fic all finished and there are about 11 chapters total. I’ll probably post them a bit quicker than once a week now that they’re all done.

They arrive at the comic book shop about twenty minutes later and walk inside without speaking. Derek sort of wants to reach out and grab Stiles’ hand again, but he doesn’t. He isn’t sure he should. He isn’t even sure why he did the last time, it had just felt like the thing to do so he did it. But now there’s no real reason, he just wants to. He starts thinking about how he must be about twelve years old because who else would think this much on just holding hands with someone? It’s not a big deal. At all. Right?

But what if... okay, no, that’s stupid. If Stiles hadn’t wanted... if Stiles was straight, he would’ve said so by now. And he wouldn’t have spent all that time earlier holding hands. 

What if Stiles doesn’t like him? Or thinks they’re just friends?

And why does Derek care, anyway? Wasn’t this the kid he thought was annoying? Why does he care now? Well, of course he knows. He likes Stiles. That’s obvious. But... it’s also complicated. Because much as he likes him, well, he’d never exactly intended for anything like this to happen. 

As they walk into the shop Stiles says,“Were there any comics in particular you were looking for?” and suddenly Derek realizes just how deeply into his own head he’d gotten. He shakes his head and tries to smile, tries not to look like the deer caught in the headlights he feels like he is right now.

“You?” he asks. He walks over to a shelf full of DC comics and starts looking through the comics they’ve got lined up. He spots a copy of the Batman Trade Paperback “Hush”. He doesn’t have that one yet, but it’s also not on his list, so he puts it back and keeps looking. 

Stiles goes straight for the Marvel comics. He shrugs nonchalantly and says, “I might get some of AvX.” 

Derek doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t really follow Marvel so he isn’t sure if that’s a comic or an event or what. “AvX?” he asks, hoping Stiles will answer but not laugh at him for not knowing. 

“Avengers vs. Xmen. It’s a recent crossover and I’ve been following it, but I’m not really sure if I like it or not.” 

“Oh.” It takes Derek about fifteen seconds to come up with the idea to ask why. “What don’t you like about it?” 

“Well...” Stiles tilts his head back and forth, thinking it over. It’s cute. He shrugs and says, “The art, mostly. I really just don’t like the way they’ve been using so many different artists. It doesn’t have a solid look to it. A bunch of the issues have a different look and it just kinda takes me out of the story.”

“So you’re really into that part of it, huh?” Derek says. He stops looking at the comics and walks over to Stiles. Stiles is looking at a Captain America comic and he’s really paying attention to each panel as he looks it over. Derek tends to read them more for the stories than the art. Actually, he doesn’t really pay much attention to the art at all.

“Yeah,” Stiles says distractedly. He’s still focusing on the comic he’s got in his hands. Derek can’t help but focus on him, how into it he is. 

They spend the next hour in the comic shop, reading books and talking about the things they like and don’t like. As it turns out, Stiles likes drawing, and he someday wants to draw a comic of his own, but probably a webcomic rather than a traditional one. Derek doesn’t really know what he wants to do, or what he’s good at. He’s never really focused on one thing like that, he’s never had any sort of passion. He likes reading, but he’s not a writer. He likes video games, but he doesn’t want to make them. He likes movies, but not enough to want to make them. He likes comics, but not like Stiles does. Stiles tells him not to worry, lots of people don’t know what they want to do. Derek isn’t convinced - he’s heard that before - but he doesn’t really say anything about it and instead turns the conversation back towards comics and superheroes. 

When they get back to campus, comics in their hands and wallets significantly lighter, they head downstairs, towards their dorms. They reach Stiles’ room first and they both just sort of pause in front of the door. 

“So...” Stiles trails off after the one word and licks his lips. It makes Derek feel twitchy and suddenly he can’t stop staring at Stiles’ lips. “Wanna come in?” There’s this hesitance to the words and Derek wishes there wasn’t. There doesn’t need to be. 

“Uh-huh,” Derek says, his voice higher than it should be, higher than he wishes it was. He’s nervous and it’s stupid. He knows it’s stupid. Then he nods even though he already said that he wanted to come in. Stiles smiles and opens the door to his dorm. He’s walking inside and Derek steps up behind him and grabs him by the hand, dragging him back just a little. Stiles spins around and looks at him curiously. Neither of them says anything and for a second, Derek isn’t sure this is a good idea. If he should do this. Stiles licks his lips again and that’s it. Derek decides he has to. He leans in and kisses Stiles. Derek’s never kissed anyone before, so it’s on the soft, tentative end of things. After a few seconds he backs up, hoping Stiles won’t react badly, but Stiles does the opposite of reacting badly. The second Derek backs away Stiles wraps a hand around the back of Derek’s neck and drags him in for another kiss, longer this time and a little more passionate. Derek breaks the kiss for a second and mumbles, “I wasn’t sure,” against Stiles’ lips. Stiles lips quirk up in a half-smile, Derek can feel it. 

“I wasn’t either,” says Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention, I've got a [tumblr](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/%22)!


	7. And Everything Goes Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now things switch from pure fluff to angst. Things couldn’t stay perfect forever. :)

There’s a loud pounding at the door and Derek groans, rolls over in bed and stuffs his pillow over his head. 

The pounding continues, just as loud as it was before and Derek grunts. He throws his pillow at the door and fishes around on his bedside table for his phone. It’s ten past ten am. He sits up straight, like his body is a spring suddenly let loose. How did he sleep so late?

The pounding at the door continues and this time a cry of, “Derek!” is added for extra emphasis. It’s Erica. 

“Erica,” he calls out. “Why are you banging on my door?”

“Because I have something to tell you! Now get out of bed!” she calls through the door. He wonders why she doesn’t just open the door. Clearly, she doesn’t care about whether or not he was asleep and it’s not like he’s not at least wearing pajamas. 

“Fine!” he calls back. “Can I at least get dressed first?” 

She sighs dramatically and he can just picture her rolling her eyes. “Fine. But be quick about it!” 

He rolls out of bed and grabs a pair of jeans and the nearest t-shirt - the Superman shirt he wore three days ago when he hung out with Stiles. And kissed him. He smiles at the memory. They had spent the rest of the day together after that, just hanging out and reading comics and kissing and they’ve got plans to meet for lunch later today. 

“That is not being quick! That is the definition of slow!” Erica yells through the door. 

“If you dislike it so much, you can leave,” Derek grumbles as he throws the t-shirt on over his head. He gives himself a quick once over in the mirror. He attempts to run a brush through his hair, but it continues sticking up defiantly, so it appears to be a lost cause. 

“Just hurry up!” Erica shouts, getting more impatient with every second that passes. Just for that, Derek stands in front of the door for thirty seconds before opening it. 

Erica raises an eyebrow at him as he steps out and he shrugs and raises his arms, the universal motion for “what?” She rolls her eyes and drags him outside before she starts talking. “You remember that party we went to?” 

Derek nods. He remembers that night very well. Stiles probably doesn’t, but...

Erica snaps her fingers in his face, drawing his attention back to her. “Clearly you do.” She pauses, re-adjusts the t-shirt she’s wearing and smiles just a little. “Well, I didn’t tell you before, but I met someone there. I didn’t want to say anything until it was more...” she pauses, searching for the right word. She finally settles on “Official.”

“And?” Derek asks, knowing there’s more to the story. 

“And last night, this guy, his name is Boyd, by the way, he asked me to be his girlfriend!” 

Derek laughs. “That’s great, Erica.” 

“And what about you?” she asks, quick to flip the subject to him now that she’s gotten her news out of the way. 

He ducks his head for a second. “There might be someone...”

Erica’s grin brightens to the point where it’s almost too bright to look at directly. “Is it that guy I saw you with at the party?”

“What?” Derek frowns. Suddenly he remembers the other part of that night. The part he spent searching for Erica, before he ran into Stiles. He’d just assumed she’d met someone and gone off somewhere. But if she didn’t... “I spent over an hour looking for you and you were there the entire time? I was actually worried about you, you know! You could’ve at least - “ Derek is cut off mid rant by Erica laughing. 

“Yeah, I was there. I saw you. I also saw that skinny kid eyeing you all night. I’m pretty sure he got drunk just so he could get up his courage to talk to you.” She looks at him and he can practically see the gears turning in her head. “Are you telling me it worked?”

Derek doesn’t know what to say to that. To the idea that Stiles was that nervous to talk to him. Why? After all, he’d done it before. “Well...”

“Well, what?” she says, impatient again. She puts her hands on her hips and waits for him to speak up. 

“We kinda...”

Erica huffs. “Either tell me or I will get it out of you by force.”

“We kinda kissed yesterday.”

Erica flat out giggles at him. “Really?” He can’t help but think she’s overly excited about this. It’s not like it’s that big of a deal. No. Actually, that’s a lie. It was a big deal. But she doesn’t need to act like it is. 

“Yes, really,” he says softly. 

She giggles again and very nearly bounces in place. “This is... this is... okay, we have people now. That’s like just...” 

“Yeah,” Derek says. He knows the only way to deal with Erica when she gets like this is to nod and go along with it. 

Erica pulls her phone from her pocket and frowns for a second before the impossibly huge smile takes over her face again. “Okay, so I have to go to class now, but we’re going to talk later and you’re going to tell me everything, okay?”

Derek looks up, wishing to the heavens that he had a best friend who didn’t get overly excited at everything while simultaneously bitching at him and says, “Okay.” 

Erica giggles in his general direction one more time before she runs off towards the main building and whatever class she has now. It’s thursday so Derek doesn’t have any classes. But he does have tons of homework, so he heads back to his dorm to at least try and get some of it done. 

Two hours later, he meets Stiles for lunch. They get sandwiches, chips and sodas at the cafeteria and decide to go and sit outside. Stiles makes a joke about how if this going to be a picnic, they should go full out with it and get a blanket or something, but Derek doesn’t respond to the question so Stiles, thankfully, drops it. 

They’re sitting outside, under a big, leafy tree when, of all people, Laura walks by. She almost walks right past them before she stops short and spins around. “There you are, loser,” she says. “I’ve been looking for you, you know. Also, it’d be useful if you actually had your phone on. That’s kinda what they’re for.” She walks over and without so much as introducing herself she sits down next to Derek. And in that instant, he goes rigid. “Laura...” he barely manages to choke out. He feels like he might actually be choking. He means to ask her what she’s doing here but instead what comes out is, “You’re here.”

“Uh, yeah,” she says. “What? I’m not allowed to come visit my little brother?” She grins easily and steals Derek’s bag of chips without asking. She pops it open and delicately sticks a single chip in her mouth. Derek scowls at her. Not so much for the chips, though on any other day he would never let her get away with it, but for the simple fact that she’s here. And Stiles is here. And she’s here. And if there was ever a bad situation waiting to happen, it’s this.

“Why are you here?” he asks. Beside him, Stiles tenses up. He can sense something is wrong, Derek just knows he can. In his head Derek starts a countdown to when this is all going to blow up in his face. 

“Seriously?” Laura asks as she fishes another chip out of the bag. She grabs one and waves it around like she’s making a point. “What’s wrong with you right now? I come by to visit, expecting you’ll be happy to see me and what, exactly?”

“Well, I just...” Derek gulps. Suddenly his mouth feels like sandpaper. “I have things to do, is all.” 

Stiles, in a move Derek knows he intends to be sweet but is actually hands down the worst thing he could do, grabs his hand and squeezes it gently. Derek jerks his hand away quickly, hoping, just praying to any god that will listen, that Laura didn’t see that. 

Stiles gives him a pitiful look and Derek is pretty sure his heart is about to explode. He’s sure it’s actually audible right now. The timer keeps ticking down in his head. No way is this playing out in his favor. And Laura? Maybe she didn’t notice the way Stiles grabbed for his hand, but she certainly notices the look on Stiles’ face. The look like Derek just kicked his puppy. Or broke his heart. Or... oh, god. He raises a hand to his forehead. He’s actually sweating. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Laura says cautiously. She extends a hand out to Stiles. “I’m Laura, Derek’s older sister. And you are?” 

Derek bites down on his lip hard enough he thinks he might actually draw blood. 

“I’m -” Stiles starts, but Derek cuts him off with a barked, “This is Stiles. He’s my friend.” 

“Okay.” Laura looks confused and clearly she knows something is going on but if she has any inkling to what it actually is, she doesn’t say. And if the look on Stiles’ face was heartbreaking before, now it makes Derek want to dig a big hole in the dirt and die there. 

“You know,” Laura says in a forced cheerful tone, “I just forgot Mom asked me to pick up a few things while I’m in town. I’ll come by your dorm later and we can go for dinner.” 

“Umm...” Derek gulps again. He looks from Stiles to Laura and for a second he doesn’t know what to say. 

“Derek?” she asks, the worry obvious both in her tone and the look on her face. And that’s when he knows he’s blown it. 

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” he manages. 

Laura nods and plasters what is obviously a fake smile onto her face. She gets to her feet and tosses the rest of the chips to Derek. “I’ll see you then,” she says. She’s speaking to Derek but she’s looking at Stiles and Derek really wishes she wouldn’t. Wishes she would have called. Wishes she would have found him before he went to meet Stiles. Or after. Or anything. Anything but this. 

She looks at Stiles for a few seconds longer and he doesn’t seem to notice. He just stares down at the sandwich in his hands and doesn’t say anything. Laura walks off and for an instant, Derek breathes out a sigh of relief. He feels better the second she’s gone and for just a fraction of a second he thinks maybe things can go back to the way they were. But then Stiles speaks. 

“What was that?”

“Umm...” Derek stammers. He honestly don’t know how to explain, what to say to make this go away. Probably because he knows he can’t make it go away, even if he could come up with something to say. 

“Derek...”

Derek doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything.

“I’m...” Stiles nervously twists and pulls at what’s left of the sandwich in his hands and it falls to pieces, crumbs and bits of meat and cheese flying everywhere. “Are you...” he doesn’t say it but he doesn’t really need to. Finally he settles on, “We weren’t even doing anything.”

Derek moves closer to Stiles and as soon as he does Stiles moves away. “You... just... freaked out. Like, what...” Stiles lets out a breath and with it seems to deflate. “I mean, if you... that’s...” He draws his head up, but looks vacantly ahead. “Okay, full sentences. Right. If you’re not out, that’s okay. I have no problem with that. But it’s not just that. You... looked like you wanted to disappear, just because you were sitting next to me. What the hell was that? There’s not out and then there’s...” he trails off again and this time he doesn’t say anything else.

“I...” Derek squeaks. Without consciously thinking about it, he finds himself on his feet. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I have class. I’m going to be late.” 

“What?” Stiles looks up at him but doesn’t move.

And suddenly Derek is running. Just running. Stiles calls out his name, but he doesn’t stop. He just runs into the nearest building. Once he’s inside, he slows to a walk. He walks to the first quiet, empty place he can think of - the bathrooms on the third floor that are almost always empty because everything in them is almost always broken. He goes into a stall and bangs his head against the door. It occurs to him just how dirty the door probably is, this is a bathroom, unused or not, but it doesn’t really matter at the moment. 

In his head, the clock that had been counting down reaches zero. He knows there’s no going back now. He’s wrecked everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here is my [tumblr](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/). I post more slash stuff there. And make comments on other slashy stuff.


	8. A Really Good Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Kira OHara for commenting on the last chapter! The rest of you suck. ;) If you don't like this, could you maybe be super awesome and tell me why you don't like it?

It’s been a week since Derek has seen Stiles. He’s been avoiding him. He’s been avoiding everything. And it’s been torture. But it would equally be torture to see Stiles. Because Derek is... he’s... he just can’t. And there are a whole bunch of reasons for that stacked one on top of the other. He feels both awful and horrified at how he acted. But he's still horrified that Laura showed up, that she started to figure it out. And he feels awful, knows that while it wasn't much of anything, they hadn't had any sort of conversation about what exactly it was between them, he should probably have told Stiles what was going on. 

But how do you bring up something like that? He's totally unprepared for any of this. He'd never intended to... get involved with anyone. But then Stiles showed up and things happened and...

He guesses that, really, he was just... hoping he'd never have to deal with any of it. He wouldn't have to tell Stiles that he is still so deep in the closet that jokes about finding Narnia and/or christmas presents fully apply. And he wouldn't ever have to tell Laura. Or anyone else from back home. He'd wished he could just keep the two worlds - college and home life - separate. 

Because it's not like no one know here. Erica knows. And it wasn’t hard to tell her, either. It had just come up in conversation by accident one day and she hadn’t really cared one way or the other. But Erica was from a completely different town than he was and she didn’t know anyone he knew. If she told someone, it wouldn’t matter. There was no way it would get back to his family. To his siblings, his parents, his cousins, his aunts, his uncles... 

Everyone. 

And what would they think? How would they react? Because once you say something like that it’s out there, there’s no putting it back. There already might not be any putting it back. Laura was already suspicious and when they went for dinner the entire conversation consisted of very personal questions he did his best to avoid answering. But no matter what he did or said, no matter how he tried to distract her, she kept coming. She was relentless in the way she only got when she found something particularly interesting. If she didn't already know, she probably suspected.

And then there was the rest of the town. And small towns talk. Everyone knows everyone else’s business and the second his family knew so would everyone else. And he’s not sure he can handle that. Everyone staring at him. Having opinions about him. 

He spent the majority of his life in Beacon Hills trying to go unnoticed and for the most part, he was successful. He was, for the most part known as “Laura’s little brother” or “Neal’s little brother” or “Andy’s cousin”. His siblings and his cousins are all pretty popular or were when they were in school. But he pretty much just kept to himself. And no one really bothered him for it, either. 

But now?

Now he’s going to unavoidably get noticed. And he really, really doesn’t want that. And he doesn’t know when it is he turned into someone who cares about what other people think, but apparently he is now. Or maybe it’s less he cares what they think but that they’re thinking about him. He doesn’t like that. It makes him uneasy and the more he thinks about it, other people thinking about him, forming opinions about him, when they don’t even know him, it just makes him feel sick. 

So he spends most of his time alone, feeling on edge and worried and all around just feeling sorry for himself. 

It’s twelve days after what he’s taken to calling ‘the day everything exploded’ when Erica bursts into his room and starts cleaning it. She doesn’t say anything to him, doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s there, she just starts shoving empty pizza boxes into garbage bags, putting all his books and games back on the shelves where they’re supposed to be and shovelling his mounds of dirty clothes into the laundry basket in the closet. For his part, Derek doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t look up at her and he pretends he doesn’t even notice what she’s doing. He just keeps his eyes glued to his laptop screen, watching the movie he’d been watching before she so rudely burst in and disrupted his den of solitude and self-pity. 

Once she’s done she goes into his dresser, grabs some clean clothes and yanks him up by the arm. In response he goes boneless and flops to the bed. She grunts and wraps her arms around him, bodily dragging him up and out of bed. He flops to the floor with all his might and she drops him. 

“You will shower if it kills me,” she says. She walks over to the doorway and points angrily at the bathroom. 

He looks up at her from the spot he’s now occupying on the floor then looks back longingly at his laptop and the movie still playing. 

“If you don’t get up, I will drag your pathetic ass into the shower. I will undress you if I have to.” She scowls in distaste at the idea of having to do anything like that but he’s afraid she actually will so, with the most pathetic of noises, he gets to his feet. 

“What’s wrong with you, anyway?” she demands. He shrugs. He doesn’t know what to say. 

“Two weeks ago, things were awesome. We were both dating people and it was awesome. Then the next day you just decide to up and become a hermit. What happened?”

Derek starts to shrug again but the second he raises his shoulders Erica glares daggers at him. “Don’t just shrug your shoulders at me. What happened?” She’s almost yelling at this point.

“You want me to tell you? Fine!” Derek shouts. “I couldn’t handle it, alright? Are you happy now?”

Erica’s face screws up in a look that’s part confusion, part consternation. “Why would you being miserable make me happy? And what do you mean you couldn’t handle it? Couldn’t handle what?” 

“I don’t know.” Derek moves forward, headed to the bathroom but Erica grabs him by the arm and stops him. 

“Just spare me the dramatics and tell me already, huh?” She loosens her grip on his arm, but not before sliding her hand down and patting the back of his hand. “It can’t be as awful as you’re making it out to be.”

When she says ‘out’ Derek laughs, but it’s bitter. “Out,” he says. 

“What you want me to leave now?” she asks, clearly offended and maybe just a little confused. “Well, fine, then. Whatever.”

“No, no, not - “ Derek groans. “I mean... I’m not out. That’s the problem.”

“Uh...” She looks confused again. “What?” 

“I’m not out. I went for lunch with Stiles, the guy I’d been telling you about, and then my sister showed up.” 

At this, Erica looks like she really wants to say something - probably about a hundred things, but instead she just waits for him to continue. 

“And I overreacted. Hugely. Well, clearly.” He waves a hand at his now cleaned up room. “I just... I don’t know that I’m ready, you know? I panicked.” 

“And you’ve been avoiding him this whole time, haven’t you?” Erica grinds out. 

“Well, kinda,” says Derek. He doesn’t even know why he adds ‘kinda’ on to it. He’s definitely been avoiding Stiles.

“Derek!” Erica reprimands. She follows it up by smacking him on the back of the head. “Seriously?” 

“Well!” Derek counters. “What? I don’t know what I’m doing here.” He raises a hand to rub at the spot on his head where she slapped him. It hurts like hell, but if he's honest, he probably deserved it.

Erica shakes her head and tsk-tsks at him. “Clearly not.” She hands him the clean clothes and again points to the bathroom. “Clean yourself up and we’ll talk about it, okay?”

Derek pauses for a moment, looks at the clothes in his hand and then over at the bathroom. “Thanks, Erica,” he mumbles. “You’re a really good friend.”

She makes a disapproving noise but smiles at him all the same. He hears her mutter, “What would you do without me?” as he heads for the shower.

He’s really glad he has Erica as a friend.


	9. And Now What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so it was totally not my intention to guilt you guys into commenting. I just figured since no one was saying anything, that maybe that was because you didn’t like the fic and I wanted to know why so I could improve it. 
> 
> Anyway, on with the fic!

Stiles is just walking out of his (completely boring and useless) English class with his best friend and fellow English class hater Scott when he spots Derek walking down the hall. 

Scott, who is busy stuffing his books into his backpack and hasn’t seen Derek yet says, “So, where do you wanna go for lunch? The cafeteria or the pizza place? We could walk over get food and come back.”

“Actually...” Stiles says, still watching Derek. “I’ll be right back.” He can see Derek getting further and further away and starts running to catch up. He hasn’t seen Derek since that stupid day almost two weeks ago and he hasn’t been able to get it out of his head. It’s a disaster. All of it is a disaster. And he has to know why. He has to. 

He runs down the hall, darting and zig-zagging between all the other students, some of whom don’t react too kindly to him brushing (or sometimes outright shoving) past them. But it doesn’t seem to matter how fast he moves, Derek just keeps getting farther and farther away. Finally he calls out to Derek with a “Hey! Stop!” but Derek doesn’t hear him. So he shouts again. “Derek! Stop!” He’s still running and Derek is still moving down the hall, but he’s walking faster now so Stiles assumes he must have heard him. He must have. He speeds up and calls out again. “Derek!” 

Finally, Derek stops and turns to face him. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and his shoulders curl inwards; at best, he looks apprehensive. Stiles runs to where Derek is standing and when he gets there he stands right in front of Derek so Derek can’t run away again, at least not without forcibly pushing him aside. Stiles pauses a second to catch his breath then says, “Hi.” He knows it’s a dumb thing to say in this situation, but he has no idea what else to say. More than that, he doesn’t really know what he wants to say at all. He wants answers but now that he’s got Derek right in front of him, he doesn’t know how he’s going to get them.

“Hey, um - “ Derek starts but his attention is quickly stolen by the sound of wheezing just behind them. Stiles spins around to find Scott running towards them, his face red and panting like he’s about to keel over. 

“You - you...” Scott manages between panting, gasping breaths. “You!” He says again before he begins rapidly fishing through his pockets. He finds what he was looking for - a blue inhaler - fairly quickly, shakes it and raises it to his mouth. He glares at Stiles as he holds his breath for the required ten seconds then shoves Stiles’ shoulder. “You jackass,” Scott admonishes. “You just ran off.”

“Oh.” Stiles says. He bites his lower lip for a second then winces. “Sorry.” 

Scott calls him a jackass again then shoves him a second time. “Well next time, don’t.”

“No, yeah, definitely,” Stiles says, his head bobbing nervously. “Sorry.” 

“Okay,” says Scott. Then he turns his attention to Derek. “You’re Derek, right?” 

Derek squares his shoulders and stands up a bit straighter, almost like he knows what’s about to happen and is preparing himself for it. “Yeah,” he says. 

Stiles turns to face him and Derek shrinks a little. “You’re the guy who broke up with Stiles, right?” Scott says. There’s a sharp edge to Scott’s tone and Stiles is a little shocked. He’s never heard Scott get angry before. Not like this. Scott steps forward so he’s standing next to Stiles and Stiles can see that he’s outright glaring at Derek.

“Scott - “ Stiles starts, but Scott waves a hand dismissively. “No,” Scott says. “He’s a jerk and you shouldn’t bother.” Stiles knows Scott is saying this to him, he’s said it at least a hundred times over the last two weeks, but he’s looking at Derek as he says it. He wants Derek to know he thinks he’s horrible and Stiles really wishes he wouldn’t. That just makes this worse, even though he knows Scott is trying to help. 

“Scott, just -” Stiles starts but this time Derek cuts him off. “No, he’s right. And I shouldn’t have acted like that. It was the wrong thing to do but I just... I just...” Derek balls up his fists and a pained look flashes across his face. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well then...” Stiles says. And then he says “Well...” and flips his hands out in an indiscriminate motion. He doesn’t know what to say. He wishes he did, but he doesn’t. He wishes he could be clever and say something really sharp and biting, really just hurt Derek. But he also wants to find a way to convince Derek that it’s okay. It won’t be easy, it never is, but they can do this. They can figure it out. So the truth is, he doesn’t know what he wants.

“Let’s just go, alright?” Scott says. Stiles looks over at Scott again and Scott is still glaring at Derek. 

“Yeah. We probably should,” says Stiles. Because honestly, he’s not sure he’s ever going to know what to say. So maybe it’s better just to leave. To leave and try to move on and forget this ever even happened. 

And he knows that, he does. He believes it, even. But he still stands there for a few seconds, just waiting. Waiting for Derek to actually say something, to actually explain himself rather than just apologizing. An apology is nice, in a way, but it’s not helpful. So he’s sorry, so what? So what are they going to do now? Are they over? Is that it? How pathetic is that, anyway? That’s it? That’s all they get? It started out as something good and now, what? That’s it? 

But Derek doesn’t say anything and they all just end up standing there in the middle of the hall with other people rushing past them and that’s when Stiles decides to leave. 

Derek doesn’t try and stop him, either. Scott repeatedly tells him it’s the right thing to do, that now he can move on and find somebody better. He even goes so far as to make this whole little speech about how it’s cliche, but it’s true - there are so many other fish in the sea that Derek isn’t even worth it.

Stiles isn’t sure he agrees, but he nods and acts like he does anyway. Besides, what else is he going to do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [A wild Tumblr appears!](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Pokemon jokes. Awesome or not awesome?
> 
> Also, there are two chapters left! Chapter 10 will be posted on wednesday and Chapter 11 will be posted on friday. 
> 
> Then I'm going to start working on the sequel fic! It's going to be from Erica's POV and cover some of the same stuff, but add in some extra bits, especially at the end. And some Boyd/Erica. Because I wanted to write some of that in this 'verse but it didn't really fit in this fic.


	10. A Really Bad Idea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter involves Thanksgiving and I’m Canadian and I almost thought it was early October. Because, in Canada, it is. But this story is set in America. Where Thanksgiving is in late November. So that’s a thing. Also, muppet references! Because, suddenly I got the image of Derek as Sam the Eagle and I couldn’t not.
> 
> Also. Ugh. I said I was going to post the next chapter on wednesday and what happens? I get the flu and don’t do anything all day. I should just not put dates on things, I think. :)
> 
> But anyway, thanks to those of you who commented on the last chapter! This is the second to last one and, as promised, Derek stops being an idiot. Mostly.
> 
> Then, next chapter is the end!

 

It’s been two weeks since Stiles (and Stiles’ seriously overprotective friend) caught Derek in the hallway. They’ve seen each other since then, and Stiles even smiled at him once, but they haven’t talked. And honestly, Derek isn’t even sure Stiles was smiling at him. It could have just as easily been something or someone else. Either way, he didn’t say anything about it, didn’t even try and talk to Stiles, so he doesn’t know. Most of the times he’s seen Stiles he’s just pretended to suddenly get a text message and be busy with his phone or something equally idiotic. One time he just flat out turned around and walked the other way.

And now, on top of all that, it’s Thanksgiving and Derek finds himself faced with the ordeal of having to go home for the holiday.

Usually, he loves holidays with his family. They’re fun and loud and chaotic and he loves every single minute of it.

But this time?

This time it’s not going to go well, he just knows it. Laura’s going to be there and he knows, he just knows, that she’s going to bug him about it and bug him about it until he answers or until she’s absolutely blue in the face and probably past that. And it’s doubtless that someone will hear her and start asking questions and that will lead to someone else hearing about it and someone else and someone else until everybody knows and he has to not only deal with Laura asking him what the deal is with him and this other guy but the entire family. And maybe he can stall Laura for a while, but everyone? That’s just downright impossible.

So he’s not excited and he kind of hates everyone who is.

His roommate Jackson is, well, he’s not excited exactly - Jackson doesn’t get excited like normal people do, but he seems to be looking forward to going home all the same. Not that he and Jackson talk much to begin with. Jackson still kicks him out and makes him go sleep on the couches in the common room from time to time, but more and more often lately Jackson isn’t even there. He seems to be spending a lot of time

with that red haired girl, Lydia. Sometimes Jackson stays out all night and maybe even sleeps in her room. Derek partly hates Jackson for having something, having someone and being happy, but he’s also happy that he, for the most part, gets their dorm to himself. So it’s a toss up, really.

Erica is happy about going home for the weekend. She’s excited for her mother’s, as she puts it “absolutely delicious” pumpkin pie, and to see her baby brother, Jeremy. And to brag to her high school friends about how she has a boyfriend now - which, as she never forgets to mention, is something that has never happened before. He’s done the best he can to pretend like he’s excited for her, but more often than not he seriously misses the mark. Usually she catches on and smacks him for being such an idiot. She’s also repeatedly told him that he needs to stop being such a baby and gather up his courage and talk to Stiles. And deal with this.

The worst part is, she’s right. He knows she’s right. He knows he’s going to have to deal with this sometime. He can’t just not say anything about it forever. Even if he and Stiles are done, finished forever, he’s going to have to deal with it sooner or later. He’s just not entirely convinced it can’t be later. Why does it have to be sooner? Why does it have to be now?

He spends the majority of the bus ride home to Beacon Hills thinking about it. Thinking about everything that’s happened in the past few months and by the time he gets off the bus a few hours later he’s no closer to having figured any of it out than he was when he got on the bus.

He considers, for the five seconds before he notices that Laura has come to pick him up, not going home right away. He figures he can just go to a diner or a cafe and sit and think for a bit. And once he’s figured it out he can get a cab (or take more time and walk) home and just say the bus was late.

But then he notices that Laura has come to pick him up. In his car. His car which, apparently, has been fixed. Not that anyone told him that.

Maybe it was supposed to be a surprise. Maybe it’s supposed to be a nice thing. But he’s already in such a bad mood in general that all he can feel about it is angry and all he can think is that Laura, of all people, should not be driving his car.

He grabs his backpack from the pile of luggage that’s just been unloaded from the bus and stomps over to her.

“Hey, grumpy,” she says, a smug smirk playing on her lips. If he wasn’t flat broke, or if such a thing was actually possible, he would pay to get rid of that smirk.

He means to be pleasant, at least fake pleasant, or at the very least not an ass, but instead what comes out is, “Why are you driving my car? Again?”

“Oh, come on, Derek,” she says, emphasis heavy on the “come on” part. “Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me.” She pauses a second to think then adds, “Or at least the car.”

Derek scowls, adjusts his backpack on his shoulders and says nothing.

“Well, this has to cheer you up,” she says. She holds up the car keys and dangles them in his face. “Come on,” she pleads. “This has to make you at least a little bit happy.”

Derek grunts. He tries to smile, but it comes out more like a sneer. He snatches the keys out of her hand and opens the door - delicately, because as much as he’s in a bad mood right now this is still his car - and throws his backpack into the backseat. Laura sneaks under his arm and gets into the passenger side before he has the chance to shut the door. He gives her a pointed look and she laughs, like this is all hugely entertaining to her. He puts specific effort into not slamming the door and walks around the front of the car. Laura just keeps grinning at him, like that’ll make him cheer up. It doesn’t. It really, really doesn’t and the second he’s in the driver’s seat with his seat belt done up he turns to her, fully intending to tell her to please, just leave him alone when she starts in on the questions.

“Is whatever is making you - “ she waves a hand at him and his general sour demeanor, “-like this, the same thing that was making you like this before?”

He starts the car, pulls away from the curb and less than subtly grunts at her.

“Really, Der? Really? You’re not even using words now?”

He purses his lips and grips the steering wheel just a little too forcefully at the use of his childhood nickname. When they were kids she called him that more than his full name but as they’ve gotten older it’s become something she only pulls out when she’s really concerned.

Which means she’s really concerned, which means all the things he feared are about to happen and he’s driving right towards them. This is a bad idea. A really bad idea.

“Okay, you’re starting to scare me now. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right? You don’t have to freak out this much. I mean really, it looks like you’re about to have an aneurism.”

Derek sighs and loosens up on the steering wheel a bit. It would be so easy to tell her. It would be so easy to just let it all go and deal with it after that. But he can’t. Because... he just can’t.

“Fine. Keep your little secrets,” she snaps. “Whatever.” She leans back in her seat and props her feet up on the dashboard.

She’s silent for the whole rest of the ride home.

When they pull up in front of the house she puts on this big, bright fake smile as she says to him in this high, chipper tone that’s secretly hard enough to cut through steel, “Just don’t be a dick, alright? Play nice for once.”

They get out of the car and he mumbles in agreement but this is clearly not enough as just as their mother comes flying down the front steps of the house, Laura turns on him and narrows her eyes. He puts on a nice smile for his mother and hugs her when she rushes at him.

“How was your trip?” she says. She looks between the two of them and for a split second Derek thinks the game is up. All of it. She’s his mother and she knows. Instinctually. But then she ruffles his hair and tells Laura to get the bags out of the car and he relaxes, just a little, just for a second.

“The trip was fine, Mom,” he says. He watches as Laura walks into the house carrying his backpack. She doesn’t look happy about it and that actually does cheer him up a little.

In the garage there’s suddenly a loud crash and his uncle Peter is yelling at Andy. Derek walks over, his Mom following a few feet behind to check out what exactly is going on.

“I’m sorry!” Andy calls out. His voice sounds appropriately remorseful but he’s barely holding back from smiling. From his position under the car Peter says, “You’re not the least bit sorry. I know your fake sorry voice a little too well by now, kid.” Andy shrugs and the smile he’s been tentatively holding back slips into place. “It was pretty funny,” he says and this time all trace of remorse is completely gone.

This is when Derek takes a second to look at the car. It’s an older model Jeep CJ-5; it’s almost just like Stiles’ except for the fact that it’s dark red instead of blue and black. This just makes him think of Stiles again and for a second, before he remembers where he is, he scowls. Andy looks over at him and looks like he’s about to ask about it, so Derek beats him to the punch and asks a question of his own. “What happened?”

Peter wheels himself out from under the car as Andy’s cheeks turn the color of the Jeep. There’s already a big, ugly, red bruise forming on Peter’s forehead. “He dropped a wrench on my foot,” Peter says. He looks over at Andy and shakes his head. The look he’s giving is clearly intended to be merciless fury but it’s not really there. Peter is already starting to break into laughter.

“Maybe I dropped the wrench, but you’re the one who smacked your head,” says Andy defensively. But like Peter’s supposed to be a death glare, there’s no real heat behind the statement.

“You are all weirdos,” says Derek in this stiff, gruff tone. This causes Peter and Andy to full on lose it. They both burst out in laughter.

“Right, Eagle boy,” says Andy.

“You know, we really missed you,” says Peter. He slips an arm around Derek’s shoulder and wordlessly starts leading them into the house.

Derek can’t help but ask, “Why do you say that like you’re surprised?”

Peter just laughs.

\--

Derek spends the night trying his best to appear like he’s having a good time. Sometimes he even forgets everything for a few minutes and actually does have a good time. He’s not certain, he certainly can’t ask, but he’s pretty sure he’s got everyone fooled. Everyone but Laura.

She hasn’t said anything, but then that’s kind of the point. She hasn’t said anything. She’s been freezing him out since they got out of the car.

And it’s been eating at him. And eating at him. And eating at him and by Saturday night he can’t stand it anymore. He’s not what you’d call a fan of confrontation - actually, he’s the exact opposite. He’s horrible at confrontation. But he has to do this. He has to confront her.

Maybe he even has to tell her. Because honestly? This isn’t working. The whole point of not telling her (of not telling anyone) was avoiding them being upset. But she’s already upset. So what’s the point?

With this in mind, he searches the house looking for her. He finally finds her slumped on the couch in the den in the basement watching some terrible reality television show full of bitchy women with big hair screaming at each other.

“How can you even watch that stuff?” he asks, hoping to break the awkward silence between them with something light and unimportant. It doesn’t work however because the response she gives him is a quick glare before focusing her attention back on the television.

“Are you just going to freeze me out until I tell you?” he asks. He sits down on the very edge of the couch. She looks like she’s debating between pretending he isn’t there and shoving him off. She goes with the pretending he isn’t there.

“Aren’t you the one who teased me about not using my words just yesterday?” he says, hoping that making fun of her will get some sort of a reaction.

It doesn’t.

“Laura, I’m -” he starts, but he can’t finish. Two words. That’s it. Two. Words. I’m. Gay.  It’s only two words. Why is that so damn hard?

“You’re a complete and total head case, I know, you don’t have to tell me,” she snaps. Her eyes are still firmly glued to the TV.

“Actually, I’m a gay complete and total head case,” he snaps back. It takes a second for him to realize what he just said and even though he’d been intending to tell her somehow, he’s suddenly finding himself wishing he’d found a better way to say it.

For a long time, a miniature eternity, she’s silent and dead still. “You’re gay?” she asks and really, she sounds a lot less terrified than he’d feared.

“Yeah.”

“Really?” she says. The question, just one single word, crushes him.

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not, I didn’t... it’s not like I just decided to be like this one day. It’s not like it’s something I could - “ She cuts him off with a hard, fast smack to the back of the head.

“I’m not debating whether or not being gay is a choice, you idiot!” she all but shouts. In that moment he thanks god that they’re in the basement and that in his search for her he found that everyone else was either outside or not home because no way they wouldn’t have heard that otherwise. She rolls her eyes skyward for a second then lets out a sigh. Then she says, in a much quieter voice, “I just don’t understand why you felt like you had to keep this from me. Do you actually think this is something I’d consider a big deal? That I’d be upset at you for it?”

“I... I don’t...” Derek shrugs. He doesn’t have an answer for that.

“No, really, Der. Why do you even think I’d care? That any of us would?”

Again, he shrugs. He doesn’t know. He feels like saying “I don’t know, because I’m an idiot, I guess” but he doesn’t because he knows that’s really not the answer she’s looking for. Instead he says, “I’m sorry. I don’t.... I didn’t mean to. I don’t know why.” It’s not much better, but it’s all he’s got.

Laura’s response surprises him. “Don’t apologize. Just stop hiding things from me, okay?” She sits up and pulls him back onto the couch, hugging him so tightly he feels a little out of breath.

After a few seconds she loosens up a bit and asks, “Does this mean we can talk about boys now?”

“I’d really rather we didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [TUMBLRRRRR!](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> And thanks for reading this chapter!


	11. And suddenly...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the last chapter! And as promised, more kissing. ;) I hope you all like it and thank you for reading this! This is the first fic I’ve written that so many people have read and that’s just fantastic.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Laura asks. They’re both standing just outside the kitchen. Everyone is gathered inside, preparing for dinner. It’s sunday and they’re all having dinner then Derek is driving back to school. But before he goes back, he’s going to tell everyone.

He decided, after telling Laura, that he might as well tell everyone else. Laura kept telling him how brave he was being, even though she knew it wouldn’t be a big deal. But he’s not being brave, not really. He’s just going to tell them because he knows it’ll be better coming from him. Laura already knows and she’s not what you’d call good at keeping secrets. She’s not even what you’d call adequate. She’s downright terrible at it, actually. So he might as well just tell them now.

“You know, I’d feel better if you stopped asking,” he says. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slow and takes a step into the kitchen. Laura is right behind him. Their Mom smiles at them brightly. “And what have you two been up to?” she asks. 

Derek opens his mouth to speak, to say it - he has to say it - but nothing comes out. He’s just left there floundering like a dying fish on a dock. So instead Laura grabs him by the elbow and leads him over to the table. She tosses, “Oh, you know, not much,” over her shoulder. And suddenly, Derek hates her just a little. Everything’s always so easy for her. 

She thunks him down into a seat next to Neal and Neal badly covers up a snort laugh with his hand. He shakes his head and says, “You two. There is something wrong with the both of you.” 

Laura sits down on Derek’s other side and makes a goofy face at Neal. “You’re just no fun, that’s the real problem.”

And Derek just sits there silently, feeling like someone has cut out his tongue. Amy, who is sitting just across from him, gives him a weird look. She doesn’t ask him what’s going on - she’s never been the type to push, the exact opposite of Laura (or Neal), but she does give him the most torturous concerned look he’s ever been on the receiving end of. He tries to smile at her, but falters and just ends up making her look more concerned. 

Marie, his cousin who just turned fourteen two weeks ago is too busy texting people on her phone to care. An alien spaceship could probably land right in front of her on the table and she wouldn’t even notice. And if she did somehow manage to notice, she’d go right back to staring at her phone because she’d immediately start texting everyone she knew and tweeting about it.

His Mother and Uncle Peter and Aunt Marissa haven’t picked up on it yet that anything weird is going on. They just start bringing all the dishes to the table and sit down. Everyone digs in and starts talking, several different conversations springing up at once, until Uncle Peter dashes off to the living room to grab old Aunt Delores and bring her into the kitchen. She sits at the end of the table and more or less looks like she’s going to faceplant into her food and fall asleep right there. She doesn’t, but only barely. 

Soon enough everyone is sitting at the table, digging into the food and Derek is, as he likes it, largely unnoticed. 

Except by Laura. 

About halfway through the meal she nudges his arm and gives him a pointed look. Neal pauses his conversation about car engines with Andy and raises an eyebrow at the both of them. 

“You have to do it,” Laura says quietly. So of course, since she spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, everyone notices. Conversations grinds to a halt at the table. Even Aunt Delores snorts herself awake and looks around the table with her big, bleary eyes. 

“What does Derek have to do?” Neal asks. Across the table, Amy nudges Derek’s foot with her own. A silent show of support. It’s like she knows. Maybe she does. Maybe Laura already told her. 

“I...” Derek gulps. All eyes are on him. “Uh...” 

Laura reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it gently. Derek isn’t sure if she’s doing it to be nice or if she’s doing it to remind him of Stiles on purpose. Or maybe she doesn’t even remember. Probably, she doesn’t remember. She probably hasn’t played that scene over in her head a thousand times.

His mom is looking right at him with her big brown eyes wide. He looks down at his plate, at the mashed potatoes he’s been pushing around for the past half hour. “Um...” he gulps again. 

“You’re not trying to tell us you dropped out of school, are you?” asks Peter. Derek doesn’t look up. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. 

“No!’ he more or less shouts, his voice a high, thin squeak. He clears his throat. “No.”

“Okay...” says his Mom. “Then what is it, sweetie?” 

“I...” Derek runs a hand up the back of his neck. It’s damp with sweat.

He can’t do this. He can’t do this. He can’t do this.

“Do you want me to tell them?” Laura asks.

Before Derek has a chance to answer, the doorbell rings. He runs to answer it.

\--

They’ve been standing on the porch of the large, intimidating house for twenty minutes when Erica says, “I took time out of visiting my family for this. We spent hours driving here and stopped at that diner and asked where this place was. No way are we not going inside.”

Stiles nods, his head jerking nervously. “Yeah,” he says. “I know.” 

For a second, Stiles wonders how Derek and Erica became friends. They seem to be as close and he and Scott are, but according to her, they only met at the beginning of the year. And he and Scott have known each other their entire lives. 

He takes a second to think about how, just before the holiday, she approached him and told him the whole story. Or as much of it as she knew, anyway. And she told him she wanted to go see Derek, for him to talk to Derek. Not necessarily to get back together, just to actually talk it out for once and for all. And Erica insisted they do it over the weekend. As it turns out, they’re both from San Francisco, so it wasn’t hard for Erica to go home for friday and saturday and come out here on sunday. It’s just Stiles and his Dad, and they never really do anything for Thanksgiving, so he had no problem with it, either. Stiles and his Dad have both just sort of come to the opinion, after years of burned turkeys and mashed potatoes that are almost too lumpy to even be called mashed potatoes, there’s really not much point in making a whole big meal for just the two of them. So Stiles had just been planning on staying at school over the weekend before Erica barged in and demanded they go to Beacon Hills.

Then suddenly Erica demands, “Okay, I’m doing it.” She marches forward and rings the bell before Stiles has a chance to interject. 

The door opens a few seconds later, surprisingly quickly considering the size of the house, actually, and Derek is standing in the doorway. 

“Hi,” Stiles says. 

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Erica says. She nods at Stiles and gives Derek a wicked grin.

Derek just blinks at them. 

“Can we come in?” Stiles asks. He doesn’t know if that’s exactly a good question to be asking, but, well... it’d be weirder not to ask and just continue standing on the deck. 

Derek’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, no. No. Definitely not. It makes Stiles want to shrink or disappear. Derek doesn’t want him here and he suddenly realizes what a shockingly bad idea this was.

“Oh, come on, Derek. We drove all the way here,” Erica says. She shoves past him and into the house. Stiles remains where he is, feeling like he’s trapped there. Like he might just grow roots and stay there whether he really wants to or not.

An entire minute passes where Derek and Stiles simultaneously stare at each other and try not to stare at each other. 

Finally, Laura walks over. “Hey, so your friend is here? She’s very - “ she stops short the second she sees Stiles. 

“Hi,” she says, eyes roving over Stiles, taking in every single aspect of him, appraising him. It makes Stiles feel naked. 

He feels like he’s naked on somebody else’s porch. 

“Come on,” she says and suddenly she’s dragging him into the house. “This’ll be perfect.” 

Behind them, Derek squawks. “Laura!”

“Well, can you think of a better way?” she says. Stiles starts trying to wriggle his hand out of her grip. If she means what he’s thinking she means, he wants no part in this. But it doesn’t matter. No matter what he does, he can’t get free. She holds on and even turns her head a bit to smile at him. He glances back at Derek and Derek looks like someone being lead to his death. Stiles gulps. 

They walk into the kitchen and Stiles can’t help but notice just how many people there are.  
Erica is already sitting at the table, squished in at the end next to a very old woman who seems to be mostly asleep. 

“This is Stiles,” Laura crows. She shoves Stiles forward and he stumbles a bit. 

An older woman, probably Derek’s mother, smiles kindly at him. “Are you a friend of Derek’s?” she asks. Her voice is sweet and something in it makes Stiles ache for his own mother. 

“Um.” Stiles looks back at Derek. Derek looks like he wants to become part of the wallpaper. This is not going like he’d hoped it would. “Sort of?” 

“How are you sort of friends?” asks a tall, well-built guy. He looks a little like Derek, but less awkward, less gawky. Stiles figures they’re probably brothers.

Stiles searches desperately for an answer and just as he thinks he’s found one, Derek says, “We dated, okay.” Then Derek steps up next to him and Derek’s hand just barely brushes against his. Stiles tries not to think about that or react to it, but it doesn’t work. His hand, seemingly of its’ own volition (his brain certainly didn’t give the okay) reaches out and intertwines with Derek’s. He expects Derek to shove him away, but he doesn’t. 

The room goes silent and everyone is staring. Stiles is starting to feel like a piece in a museum with all these people staring at him. 

The first one to speak is a little, dark haired teenage girl whose eyes have been glued to her phone since Stiles walked in. She looks up for half a second and says, “My cousin did something stupid, right? That’s why he said you dated, past tense.” Then she goes back to her phone, fingers flying over the screen with inhuman speed. 

Laura looks from Derek to the girl and back to Derek. And she barks a laugh. She doesn’t say it, but her expression does that for her. It says, “See? I told you so.”

“I’m with Marie. What’d you do Derek?” says a tall man with perfectly done hair and oil stained hands. 

Derek’s mother nudges him. “Peter!” she scolds. Stiles wonders who Peter is. Is he Derek’s father or his uncle?

Another woman gives Peter this tired look and shakes her head. “I’m sorry my family has such bad manners.” She directs her steely gaze at the teenage girl, the one Peter had called Marie, but  
Marie’s eyes are so focused on her phone she doesn’t notice. She looks back to Peter and rolls her eyes dramatically. “Remind me why I’m married to you again?” 

Peter makes a face like he’s thinking then says, “I think it’s all my natural charm.” She playfully slaps him on the arm before reaching across the table and stealing Marie’s phone. 

“Hey!” Marie cries in protest. She pouts and folds her arms across her chest.

“You can tell your friends all about your weird family later,” says Peter. “We have guests.”

Marie gives Stiles a cold look, but with her being fourteen it doesn’t bear much weight.

And suddenly Derek’s mother is bolting up, looking for another chair and a way to fit yet another person into a very crowded table and scolding Derek for just standing there. Stiles looks over at Derek, at the petrified expression Derek is currently wearing and Stiles can’t help it. He smiles. 

Laura makes a joke about how cute they are and Stiles really wants to throw something at her. Erica says she agrees, they’re adorable, and Stiles would flip her off, really, he would - well, he would if it weren’t for the fourteen year old sitting at the table. Derek tells Laura to shut up, instead. 

Derek’s Mom quickly returns with an extra seat and places it next to Derek’s. “You should introduce everyone,” she says. It sounds sweet, but at the same time it’s obvious that it’s not a suggestion. 

“Fine,” Derek grumbles. “You already know my horrible sister, Laura.” He nods at Laura. Laura sticks her tongue out at him. “That’s my Uncle Peter and my Aunt Marissa,” he says, and they nod. “The girl with the phone is Marie. And next to her is the only decent person here, my sister Amy.” Amy smiles politely as the boy who’d previously asked Stiles how anyone could be kind of friends says, “Decent? Nobody here is decent, baby brother.”

Derek rolls his eyes and continues with the introductions, this time pointing to the boy who’d just spoken. “That’s Neal. He’s an idiot.” He continues on quickly before Neal can say anything in reply. 

“And that leaves Aunt Delores, who is asleep at the end of the table,” Derek says. He then looks at his mom and she smiles at Stiles. 

“And I’m Talia,” she says. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Stiles nods. “You - you too.” He stumbles over his words a bit, still feeling a little out of place. He can’t get over how big Derek’s family is. It’s just been him and his Dad for a very long time now. Sometimes, it was him, his Dad and Scott and his Mom, but that was it. 

Under the table, Derek squeezes his hand.

\-- 

After dinner is over and everyone has more or less scattered, Derek pulls Stiles out onto the back porch. They sit down on the edge and almost immediately, Stiles starts swinging his legs back and forth. 

“So, that was -” Derek stops short and shrugs. “I don’t really know how to describe what that was.”

Stiles smiles. “It was cute. Your family is awesome.” 

“They’re alright.” 

Stiles shifts over so he’s closer to Derek and brushes up against his shoulder. “So...” he says. That’s it. The one word. But that word is enough. Derek knows what he’s getting at. 

“Yeah,” Derek says. Because as much as he knows what Stiles is getting at, that doesn’t mean he knows how to start this conversation. 

“I’m assuming this means, we’re, well ... what are we exactly?” Stiles says. He stops swinging his feet and balls his hands up in his lap. He stares down at them and Derek stares at him. And at his hands. Stiles has weirdly attractive hands with these long, graceful fingers and Derek wonders how he ever thought it would be okay if they were done. He feels strongly just about Stiles’ hands, for crying out loud. 

“I dunno.” Derek bumps up against Stiles’ shoulder. “What do you want this to be?” 

“Well, I guess... if you can stop being such a neurotic headcase, I want to be your boyfriend. ” Stiles peeks out of the corner of his eye at Derek and for a second, Derek just looks at him. Then he ducks his head, his cheeks suddenly warm and a big, stupid smile spreading across his face. “But,” Stiles says, “if you ever pull any of this not telling me what’s going on crap like you just did, I’m not going to stand for it, okay? That’s not acceptable.”

“Okay. That’s fair. I was an idiot, so that’s fair,” says Derek. And then he gets an idea. “but if you’re going to be my boyfriend then...” he trails off as he spins around so he’s facing Stiles. He grabs Stiles hands and pulls him around so they’re facing each other. 

A second passes, then another, and then Derek leans in and kisses Stiles. And it’s so much better than before. It’s better to the point Derek starts to wonder if Stiles has been practicing with someone else. Not that he wants to really think about that. Not that he wants to think about anything right now. 

They part when they start to get breathless, desperate for air as much as they’re desperate to not stop kissing - quite possibly ever. “I’m going to kiss you as much as I possibly can,” Derek says, his voice thick. He grins idiotically and leans in to kiss Stiles again. This time he wraps a hand around the back of Stiles’ head, tangling his fingers up in Stiles’ hair and presses closer to Stiles. Stiles grips him by the shoulders, locking him in place surprisingly well considering how narrow Stiles’ fingers are, how small his arms are.

And in that moment, Derek wonders just what the hell he was so worried about before. This is pretty damn great. And it worked out pretty well. And he feels... he feels so much better now. He feels better to the point where he wishes he could go back and kick his past self for being so worried. 

This, of course, is when Laura and Erica burst out onto the deck and starting cheering and cat calling at them.

They part just enough for Derek to turn his head and tell them both to shut it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand.... that's the end of the fic! I'm going to start on the sequel soon and I might even post a preview of it on my [tumblr.](http://itsnoteasybeinggreenberg.tumblr.com/)


End file.
